


sometimes you must be brave to face the sun

by CharlotteDaBookworm



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character is not in a good place, Cor Has A Kid AU, Family Bonding, Family Issues, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Noctis is a sunshine child, Time Travel, Virtus could really use a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21694609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteDaBookworm/pseuds/CharlotteDaBookworm
Summary: Virtus should be dead.He doesn't know why he isn't. But he's alone and the sun hurts and he has no idea what to do now that he's suddenly 13 again; so he wanders.Until he hears a kid being attacked and steps in and changes everything.
Relationships: Cor Leonis & Original Male Character(s), Noctis Lucis Caelum & Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 283





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the fire in your heart (will burn you to the ground)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14911247) by [SparkleMoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleMoose/pseuds/SparkleMoose). 



> As in most things FFXV related, I blame The Moose for this

* * *

Virtus wakes.

There’s firelight flickering behind his eyelids and the familiar sounds of someone puttering about setting up camp, the _warmsafeprotect_ of a haven humming deep in his blood, calling to something that he’s never bothered to put a name to.

The sky, when he opens his eyes, is a deep purple – stars already shining high above.

He sits up.

On the other side of the fire, the hunter – already covered in a couple of days worth of grime – raises an eyebrow. “Where are your parents’ kid?” He says gruffly, glancing him over obviously.

He shrugs.

His mother- he can hardly remember his mother as anything more than the bloodied corpse lying in the ruins of their home. He remembers the blood puddling beneath her and the smell of burnt, decaying flesh and the way she _stared_ at him; but not the way she laughs or speaks or even the colour of her hair when it isn’t stained with blood and gore. His mother has been dead to him for a very long time now. And his father…

The man has already chosen not to acknowledge him as anything but a soldier.

The hunter stares at him.

He shrugs again, gathering up his few belongings and slipping them back into his pack – making sure his boots were tied tight, laces tucked away, and his knives were in place – before walking to the edge of the haven.

Behind him, the hunter scrambles up. “Oi, kid, what d’ya think you’re doing, don’t you know it’s dangerous at night-!”

Scoffing, he rolls his eyes. He’s fine at night.

It’s the sun that hurts.

With a step off of the side before grasping hands can pull him away, Virtus disappears into the shadows.

* * *

He wanders, not bothering to glance at the stars in the sky, uncaring of the direction he’s going in.

Rain turns to sun turns to fog, grass turns to sand turns to sea, mountains turn to grasslands turn to flatlands.

Still, he wanders.

The screams of daemons echo in his ears and his eyes flinch away from pre-dawn light and he hides in the shadows because that’s what he knows.

Virtus puts one foot in front of the other and unknowingly follows a faint pull that he doesn’t understand, with the moon high in the sky above him and a familiar miasma – but lesser, it’s so much easier to breathe here – in the air and the silence of everything but his own heartbeat ringing in his bones.

He’s alone, he knows.

It’s fine.

_He’s_ fine.

* * *

Virtus wanders.

* * *

He comes to a stop, staring at the overturned car – flames flickering in the dark of the night, casting a light that almost hurt his eyes – and the bloody, glass-ridden corpse of the driver. A woman, the passenger, is laying in a pool of blood beside the wreckage.

Her body is crushed, constricted like a snake, and her chest clawed open by a daemon’s claws.

_(-poison dripping into wounds that **burn** , great heaving gasps that do nothing to help the dizziness, hands shaking, covered in blood, and it _hurts- _)_

Virtus turns away, meaning to leave.

There is nothing he can do, no tags to drop off at the next stop he passes through, and so there is no point in his staying. He turns away.

A scream, young and terrified, stops him.

_(-it hurts and he can’t breathe, his vision blurring as glowing purple fire moves towards him once more and-)_

He moves.

Knife in hand, he ducks writhing coils, slashing deep into powerful muscle and ignoring the daemon’s _bellows_ as he wraps an arm around the kid and _pulls-_

An arm, tipped with claws, tries to stop him and Virtus meets rage-filled eyes even as his knife lashes out; embedding itself deeply in an almost-human shoulder.

The daemon screams and claws at it, pulling away.

He leaves the knife, holding his bloodstained bundle close to his chest as he backs away swiftly.

The moment they’re out of reach, he runs.

* * *

He sprints, ignoring the kid whimpering against his jacket, ignoring the blood dripping down his neck into his t-shirt, ignoring the dead pain in his arms and the way his lungs are burning because he knows that the daemon will follow them as soon as it realises they’re gone.

He sprints, unknowing of where he is running _to,_ until the sky begins to lighten and then he stumbles to a stop next to a small stream, under the cover of a small copse of trees.

Falling to his knees, he drops his bundle to the ground and sucks in air that aches, his arms shaking as he _breathes_.

The kid whimpers again, staring at him with wide eyes – pale cheeks and tear tracks cutting through the dirt on his face and blood matted in his hair.

Virtus winces.

Pulling a small bundle of spare cloth out of his pack, he moves to the stream and dipped them in the water before turning back to the kid who just stares at him.

He tilts his head to the cloth, cool water trailing down overheated skin like bliss, and then to the kid.

Slowly, the kid moves closer.

Taking the cloth, he dabs it gently across his face, cleaning up the tears and the grime and the splatters of blood against his hairline with slow careful movements. Then, with some of the bandages he always carries with him, he wraps the kid’s palms which were torn from scrambling against rough scales. Pulling back slightly, he raises a hand in a _wait here_ symbol and the kid holds still – watching him with curious eyes as he cups a hand in the stream.

It’s harder the get the blood out of the kid’s hair, he keeps squirming away from the cold touch and Virtus doesn’t want to press too hard for fear of any injuries, but eventually he manages to get most of it out, even if it leaves his hair sticking out at all angles.

He pulls back, sitting back on his heels to look the kid over, and without the blood and grime he recognises that face but younger from various news reports and the pictures he’d seen tacked up on wanted posters.

_Damn_.

He grimaces.

“What about you?” The kid asks quietly, staring at him.

Virtus startles at the sound, drawing him from his realisation, and he blinks. _What about him?_

Holding his hand out, the kid takes the cloth from him and finds the least dirty corner. He dabs it against Virtus’ cheek, having to stand on his tiptoes to do it, and he blinks when it comes away stained with dried blood.

Huh.

The kid continues, rubbing gently at his neck before making a triumphant sound and pulling away, those familiar blue eyes sparkling with victory. He smiles at him, looking so proud as Virtus runs his fingers over his face and finds the slice wound he hadn’t noticed.

“There you go!” He chirps, bright and happy despite the circumstances and the fact that he’s essentially kidnapped him.

He swallows. “Thanks,” he says slowly, his voice hoarse with disuse.

The kid grins wider. “Welcome!”

Glancing up at the sky, which has lightened to pre-dawn, he winces before looking at the kid. Usually, he’d sleep until nightfall, but he has the _prince_ -

Pointing in what he’s pretty sure is the direction of the nearest outpost, he meets the kid’s eyes. “Town.” His voice cracks painfully in the middle but the kid nods seriously as he packs up the last of his things.

He opens his arms, ignoring the slight shake of them and offering silently to carry the kid for the long walk.

A small palm wrapped itself in his instead and the kid smiles up at him. “I can walk.”

Virtus nods.

* * *

They walk for hours, heading in the same general direction and hoping it will be enough as the sun rises, and the stars disappear.

Eventually the walk becomes too much for the kid, his feet dragging and his steps slowing with exhaustion, and instead of stopping Virtus sweeps him up in his arms and settles him on his back.

The kid laughs, shocked at the suddenness, and the force of it tickles at the hair on his neck.

Virtus’ lips twitch.

For a while, they continue like that; the kid babbling in his ears as they trek over sand and stone, pointing out animal after animal that he’s obviously read about but never seen. Slowly the words trail off and the kid rests his head against his, falling asleep.

He slows his pace, smoothing out his gait, but continues onwards.

The silence is odd.

_Soft_.

The sun is high in the sky – higher than he’s seen it in a very long time and he flinches away from the brightness of it when the kid isn’t looking – when they come across another small pond and Virtus ducks down to refill his canteens.

It wakes the kid, who startles and nearly tumbles from his back.

He huffs, amused, and the kid pouts at him before his stomach grumbles.

The kid goes bright red.

Virtus holds out a ration bar – the only food he carries with him – and watches as the kid picks at it before deciding his hunger outweighed the taste. Then the kid pauses, looking at him with a frown as he realises that he’s just sitting there, watching. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

He blinks. He doesn’t remember the last time he was actually hungry, he eats on routine only usually, but at the kids deepening frown he finds himself pulling out another bar and opening it.

The kid brightens, smiling at him happily as he eats.

His lips twist into a small, awkward smile in return and the kid _beams_. Heat rises in his cheeks. “Virtus.” He says roughly, pointing to himself. The words don’t hurt as much this time.

Somehow the kid’s smile gets even wider as he bounces in place. “Noctis.” He says in return, pointing at his own chest with the wrapper. “Noct.” He specifies.

He nods. “Noct.”

Tucking the uneaten half of his bar back into his pack, he reaches out for the ki-Noct’s wrapper and tucks that away too. Noct uses the opportunity to grab his hand again, clinging to it and directing a bright smile up at him.

Lips twitching in response, he stands.

* * *

Virtus stumbles into what he vaguely remembers as Longwythe as the sun begins to set, Noct still holding his hand but lagging a little behind.

The place is swarming with people; enough of them that he feels the urge to _turn around and leave_.

He doesn’t leave.

Instead, he walks forward – heading toward the Crow’s Nest because at the very least Noct would probably appreciate food that isn’t a ration bar and maybe someone here could call someone so that Noct can go home.

And then, after, Virtus can go back to his wandering.

It’s what he wants.

(His chest feels weird)

The door opens before they can reach it and a familiar man walks out into the sunlight, face set into a snarl that he’s seen before and he guesses it’s time to leave because Noct is certainly safe with Cor the Immortal.

Noct perks up, lunging towards the man with a yell of _“Cor!”_ and dragging him alongside him as he refuses to let go.

Leonis’ eyes warm, his face softening as he wraps Noct in his arms, and the man is so obviously happy that the kid is safe that Virtus rubs at his chest with his free hand because Noct still hasn’t let go of him and the kid has an iron grip.

The movement catches the Marshals attention and the man glances up.

Resigned, Virtus meets blue eyes that match his perfectly.

* * *

Cor’s eyes narrow.

He pales.

* * *

_Yeah_ , Virtus thinks, _it’s time for me to go_.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cor and Virtus somehow end up having two seperate conversations and Noctis is adorably possesive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this has actually been mostly finished for about two weeks? but i completely forgot about it cos of _A Lesson In Time_ and yeah

* * *

Cor stares.

He stares from where he’s still kneeling on the ground; looking up at the one who has brought his prince back to them.

He stares at the boy that Noctis is clinging to, at the hand that is clutching the tiny one back just as tightly.

He stares at eyes that he sees in a mirror and muddy hair in a shade he’s seen only in his memories, hair with a distinctive wave to it that he recognises as the reason he keeps his own cut short. He stares at the reddened slice on a paling cheek and the edges of faded scars curling up past the collar of a shirt and Arete’s mouth and cheekbones set into the same face as _his_ jaw and nose.

Those eyes shutter as he stares, the kids face somehow becoming even blanker, and Cor can see the way he takes a mental step backwards if not a physical one but all he can focus on is blue _blue **blue**_ **-**

The blood drains from his face.

He has a _son-_

_“_ This is Virtus!” Noct babbles, raising the hand still caught in _Cor_ _’s_ _son_ _’s-_ Virtus’ own. Cor can see the edges of old weapons callouses - _some sort of blade,_ his brain notes absently, _likely knives_ \- on Virtus’ - his sons name is _Virtus_ \- hands and he can’t help but think of Arete and her determination to put her own knives down and go back to her farm and live a peaceful life. He thinks of her and looks at _their son_ (at leather beaten and stained, and dirt-worn boots and a well-used travel pack, at flecks of blood and ichor and those blank eyes) and his heart aches. “He saved me - it was so _cool;_ he was so quick and then he ran for so long and he didn’t even complain that I was heavy, and he promised to take me home and-”

Cor stands, half an ear on Noctis’ babbling and the other half of his focus squarely on his son.

Who _flinches_ as a member of the ‘guard passes behind him.

His eyes narrow at the minuscule movement - so small that the only reason he caught it is because he was already watching - and his blood pounds in his ears as he watches him curl into himself and reach for a weapon before he catches himself and moves back to precisely where he was before.

The whole thing takes but a fraction of a second, his son - _his **son**_ \- flinching and moving to hide it instinctively, and Cor feels anger that he hasn’t felt since he was 15 and losing against the Blademaster.

He steps back (easily, as if he always meant to, and something in his chest _aches_ and _rages_ as Virtus - _his son_ \- relaxes infinitesimally) and his eyes casually scan a too-thin form hidden behind layers of clothes, skin pale not by nature but instead by months without seeing the sun, scars peeking out from behind mended hems and shadowed eyes staring out from behind a dirty fringe.

His son looks like a hunter but for the lack of tags and that fact he cannot be older than _13_.

His son looks like a **torture survivor**.

Cor swallows back the rage that wants to erupt, swallows back the urge to _slaughter_ any who have hurt this boy, swallows back the instinct to pull him into his arms and never let him go, and forcibly relaxes tense muscles.

He doesn’t want to make things worse and Virtus - his son - doesn’t know him.

So, he bites back the words that want to spill out; words like _how are you_ or _who did this to you_ or _what happened to your mother_.

“Thank you for saving Prince Noctis,” he says, instead.

(He doesn’t realise the mistake he’s made)

* * *

“Thank you for saving Prince Noctis,” Cor Leonis says, glancing away dismissively.

Virtus rubs at his chest, at the empty pit that’s there for some reason he can’t understand. Yeah, the Marshall had actually _looked_ at him this time, but he still shouldn’t have expected…

He lifts a shoulder in a shrug and squints against the burn behind his eyes from the sunlight.

“Your surname?” Leonis asks but doesn’t seem to care, his attention focused on Noct who was swinging their hands happily and wriggling as Leonis checked him over for injuries.

He can understand that.

Noct is definitely more important than anything else.

“Aevum.” He forces his family name out roughly, words like gravel in his throat and the weight of it - of a name born and claimed and forgotten - almost hurts.

There’s the slightest flicker in the Marshall’s eyes before his face hardens to the same thing he’d always seen when interacting with the man - years ago and decades later.

He doesn’t care.

His chest aches.

The Marshall’s gaze drifts back to him and the hand at his chest but there’s nothing but clinical coldness there. “If you’re injured, we can provide medical attention...?” Virtus shakes his head, dropping the hand. He’s fine. “Then a reward for your service to the Crown-”

He scoffs soundlessly and rolls his eyes, cutting one of the most feared men alive off. The little prince, who’s begun tensing up beside him, relaxes as he does; beaming up at him. Virtus looks away as his lips twitch awkwardly and his eyes fall on Leonis, who is _staring_ -

The smile falls away before it can form and he glances away, down, because he’s just cut off ~~a _superior officer_~~ _the Marshall_ and he’s acting familiar with the prince and he should really just leave.

But when he steps back the kid pulls him forwards and surely, they’ll be leaving soon, what’s the harm in waiting to see Noct off?

Another glance tells him that the Marshall has gone back to ignoring him and he relaxes - just a fraction. Noct grins up at him, their fingers still entwined, and Virtus finds himself reaching for another of the ration bars when the kid’s stomach rumbles, opening it one-handed easily and handing it off. This time, the kid is too distracted by Leonis to notice that he hasn’t pulled out his own.

He’s not hungry and that-

He’s fine.

The sun slips below the horizon, casting the world in shadows, and he relaxes.

He’s tired but not exhausted and the stars are visible, and he can feel the chill in the air and if he listens he can hear the faint howl of daemons in the distance and tension seeps out of his muscles because _this_ is normal. This is safe.

(The night can’t hurt him like the sun can)

Virtus is fine.

Leonis looks at him again, brief and disinterested and _why are you still here_ and Virtus-

-He should leave.

* * *

_Cor!_

_Cor_ _’s here! Virtus brought him to Cor!_

Noctis bounced on his feet, launching at his uncle with all the certainty that he’ll catch him because Cor always has. And then strong arms are around him and he wants his dad, but he has Cor and Virtus and everything is okay and they’re gonna take him back home to his dad. And his dad is gonna _love_ Virtus because Virtus saved him and helped him and he’s so cool and maybe if Virtus meets his dad then he won’t be so sad anymore.

But Cor is looking at Virtus and now he’s sad and it’s making Virtus sadder and…

He pulls him closer - because Virtus is happier when he’s with him, he’s noticed - and grins up at him even as his tummy rumbles and his friend’s eyes light up and his lips twitch and Noct wants to cheer.

Because he did that. He made Virtus almost-smile and the sadness went away a little and he _helped!_

And Virtus is _his_.

He should always be happy.

“Noct.” He says, all grumbly and quiet and _important_ \- it has to be important because Virtus doesn’t speak much.

Virtus moves his eyes to their hands and then tilts his head to the road they’d come from and _no._

His grip tightens, pulling his friend closer, and Virtus _lets him_ but his eyes say he still has to leave even though he’s sad about it.

“You can’t leave!” He says, eyes wide, and Virtus’ head tilts in question. “You promised you’d come meet my dad!”

He stares at him blankly.

Noct winces, looking down. “I know you didn’t _promise_ but I want you to, please.”

Someone coughs in the background and Noct frowns. Adults are weird.

His hand was squeezed and when he looked up, Virtus sighed. His eyes darted around for a little bit before resting on him.

“I know he’s not here,” he mutters even though he isn’t supposed to mutter but he doesn’t want Virtus to leave. His eyes widen. “You can just come to Insomnia with us!”

He blinks.

Folding his arms as best as he can without letting go - because he’s not letting go until Virtus agrees - he puts on his best Important face. “ _Please_ , I want dad to meet my friend.”

A second. Two. He stares at Virtus with all the hope he can, ignoring the way that Cor is staring at him because adults are _weird_.

Virtus closes his eyes in agreement.

Noct cheers, throwing their hands up. “ _Yay!_ Dad’s gonna love you, he’s the best, and I can introduce you to Uncle Clarus and Iggy and Muffin - she’s the cat by the kitchen and she’s gonna have _kittens_ soon - and, and-” there, a twitch of his lips and soft eyes that are like big smiling on anyone else and Noct _beams_.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> setting this as incomplete but i don't know when i'll come back to it because honestly this came out of bloody nowhere. also really not sure on the title but i needed something so yeah
> 
> but anyway Virtus is a Cor kid who time travel accidently and is also pretty damn certain that Cor doesn't want him. which Virtus figures is fair and it isn't like he needs people. he totally hasn't latched onto Noct as much as Noct has latched onto him. of course not


End file.
